Bread and circuses
have become
DoorDash and the iPhone
The bread is delivered
to your couch
They didn’t need
to build a new
Colosseum
They simply put one
in every pocket
Thumb against glass
The emperor
has no face
the arena
has no walls
and the crowd
never goes home
We wake
already seated
Sleep with
the spectacle
beside us
Somewhere
a library closes
A notification
covers the silence
The lions
have changed
as they no longer
need feeding
We feed them
small pieces
of ourselves
through glass
The thumb moves
and the gate opens
Another stranger
enters the arena
We watch
the bread arrive
still warm
Outside
the Republic
quietly changes
hands
Inside
Someone asks
What should we
watch next
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Author:
Dionysian66 (
Offline) - Published: September 29th, 2026 04:46
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments2
And they serve the same purpose they keep the crowd oblivious of what is going on around them, peaceful to the governing group, preoccupied with the meaningless. Well written a fave for the message
Bro…yeah, this got under my skin. The spectacle never shuts off anymore, and we keep volunteering for front-row seats. Powerful work my friend! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️
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